Page 12

12

EVA

I haven’t stopped smiling since we arrived at Arthur’s date location. I fully believed it was just a nice way of trying to get me to his place, but he had different plans. Hot dogs from a food truck, a couple of beers, and a round of miniature golf to bring it all together.

And our night together makes me realize I was wrong about him. Sure, he stands for everything I’ve spent my life fighting against, but underneath his rough exterior is a big ol’ teddy bear with a heart of gold.

Even if we both knew where the night was heading, Arthur didn’t have to do any of this. He wanted to make me feel like a princess, anyway.

“They’re on the eighteenth hole, neck and neck, with one putt standing between them and victory,” Arthur fakes an announcer's voice, tapping the head of his golf club against AstroTurf.

He’s lying, of course. Arthur’s six holes up, with no signs of slowing down. I’m pretty sure he missed a couple of strokes on purpose to let me win a few. An honest-to-goodness gentleman, even if I can’t capitalize on his generosity.

“Oh, come off it.” I wave my hand through the air. “You said it yourself. We’re only here so I can get some practice with this club. But something tells me this thin stick doesn’t compare to what I’ll have to deal with.”

I look at him over my shoulder.

“Let’s make it interesting then,” Arthur says, stepping behind me and snaking his arms over my shoulders. “Call this hole double or nothing, or whatever it is you need to win.” He grips my hands around the putter, his own club poking against my back. “Win it and the game’s yours.”

“What happens if I win?” Warmth radiates between our bodies. It feels so right having him this close to me. And soon, we’ll be doing this dance butt naked.

Something tells me he won’t be able to control himself the same way he does during our training sessions.

“I’ll have time to practice on the nineteenth hole,” he whispers into my ear. “Make sure I never lose again.”

My cheeks instantly set ablaze. Clubs, holes, sinking balls. I’m starting to think Arthur planned this date so he could lay down as many innuendos as he could to get me excited for what’s to come.

“Then I better not disappoint,” I say, allowing Arthur to help me take my shot.

We give the ball a firm pat and watch as it rolls with expert precision through the windmill obstacle. It continues over bumpy terrain, narrowly avoiding fake hole hazards, and stops in front of the flag.

“Bang on,” he says, swapping places with me.

And unlike the determined golfer I’ve seen all night, Arthur swings, and his ball smashes against the rotating fin of the windmill. His second shot does the same. And then a third, to add levity.

“Whoops.” A naughty smile creeps across his face. “Don’t think I’ll be catching up after that mess.”

“And to the victor goes the spoils,” I say the same way he did right before eating my pussy.

I take a second to scan our surroundings, ensuring no other budding putt-putters are around. And when I’m certain the coast is clear, I throw myself into Arthur for a quick, hot kiss. My hands instantly find their way to his cock, rubbing it through his jeans. We’ve spent the whole damn night teasing each other that I can’t stop my overeager urges for this to actually happen.

“Isn’t that a mighty fine consolation prize?” Arthur says as I step back, his golden eyes twinkling with delight.

“I think I’m ready,” I say, and my heart starts fluttering with my words. I take Arthur’s hand in mine and squeeze it tightly.

I lied when I said think . I am ready. I want Arthur to take me to unexplored avenues of utter bliss. Fuck me like there’s no tomorrow because there just might not be one with me leaving to study. My heart aches at the thought of leaving him, but I bury the feeling. I’d rather enjoy the right now than worry about the future.

“Ready?” He brushes my knuckles with his thumb.

I need him to make me a woman. His woman.

“To feel you inside of me, Da … Daddy.” My cheeks reach new levels of redness calling him Daddy. From trying to be bratty to using it as a tool to get what I want, I know it drives him fucking crazy.

I’ll never be able to say it again without slipping into fantasies of Arthur Hancock.

“Oh, fuck.” Arthur chokes on his spit.

Squeezing my hand into his fist, he pulls me through the crowds of golfers, making their way to their next hole. We’re nearly at full sprint by the time we get to his car, and it doesn’t stop there. He revs his engine, smashes it in drive, and we speed through the streets to his apartment.

He’s a man on a mission, never failed one yet, and tonight won’t be his first.